Repentance
by Idan
Summary: Follow up to Regret, so includes spoilers for My Blue Heaven. You do need to read Regret first or you'll be lost. "Repentance?" she echoed. "For which sins?" "You know better than I," he said softly. "They were all against you."


**Disclaimer**: Not mine, and no money is coming my way as a result of this.

**Author's Note:** I'm not writing three multi-chapters at once. I'm not. Which is why this is a standalone rather than Regret Chapter Two. However, I do want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who reviewed Regret. You made me very happy, which is a little hard to do these days when The Mentalist is involved! BTW, this is officially AU now, because of the teacup. :(

**Repentance**

Patrick Jane was no stranger to repentance. He'd lived with the wish to atone, to undo, to never make the same mistake again ever since that horrible night when his world was destroyed. It took a back seat to his revenge most of the time, but it was always there. And once his revenge was accomplished, he realized that there was really no point in repentance if there was no one to forgive him. And the people whose forgiveness he wanted were either dead or lost to him forever, again by his own doing.

It took him some time to understand how thoroughly he had destroyed everything he cared about, because he'd been numb those first days on the run. Then busy trying to arrange a life of sorts. When the pain really set in, it had nearly killed him.

Literally nearly killed him, because he'd become reckless and depressed, blunting his skills and quick mind. Looking back now, he could see some of the stupid things he'd done as half-hearted, unconscious suicide attempts. He was glad now that he'd been unsuccessful at that, because he wouldn't have had this chance to see Lisbon again. No matter what happened now, even if she changed her mind tomorrow and threw him out, he'd seen that she was okay. He hadn't managed to destroy her, though he knew he had broken her heart. She had picked herself up and gone on. She was so much stronger than he was. So much better.

He turned over restlessly, afraid to fall asleep. The only reason he'd agreed to stay in her guest room was his hope that her scent and proximity would keep his nightmares at bay. But the guest bed sheets smelled like fabric softener rather than her, and her room was at the other end of the hall, where he couldn't hear her breathe. He hadn't even gotten Bear for company; no matter how friendly, he was still Lisbon's dog, and she'd only just come home.

For a while, he entertained the idea of sneaking into her room and finding her shirt to sleep with. Knowing Lisbon, it would be in a hamper instead of conveniently on the floor, though. And Bear would probably not allow him into the room without waking Lisbon. Maybe the throw on the couch in the living room held her scent? But he wasn't sure he could navigate there without turning on lights or attracting Bear's attention.

He would just lie here and rest. Sleep was more a luxury than a necessity these days, anyway.

It was so dark and quiet here. He'd mostly stayed in cities during his time as a fugitive, since it was easier to disappear in a crowd, and he was used to background noise and light even in the wee hours of the morning. He'd pulled a curtain partway open to let in whatever light might be out there, but the trees hid the moon pretty well. And the only sounds he heard were the wind rustling the trees and the occasional hoot or other animal sound.

He needed to occupy his mind so his body could relax and rest. He reviewed his route here from Sacramento and thought about whether he would take a different way back. It would feel different even if he took the same roads, though, because Lisbon would be in the passenger seat. Or even better, in the driver's seat so he could look at her all he wanted. He hadn't finished cataloging all the changes since he'd last seen her, and he wanted to memorize the little lines around her eyes and the few strands of silver that had crept into her dark hair.

She was still stunning, though. How was she still alone? Maybe there weren't any suitable men in this small town. Or maybe she was still hung up on him. She'd been so quiet at dinner, and she hadn't asked him where he'd been. He realized now that must have been because she was wrestling with her feelings. If she was over him, she would have made small talk, or at least attempted it. The kiss might have been curiosity rather than longing, though; he couldn't be sure he wasn't just projecting.

It was maddening to feel so unsure of Lisbon. She had been the constant in his world, the one person he never had to wonder about. Now it was almost as if she were a stranger. And yet he was almost sure it wasn't so much that she had changed as that he had.

He ached with the need to see her again. How many hours until sunrise? Too many. He needed to distract himself.

Her gallery in his memory palace was his refuge at times like these. He could remember her in so many ways: bantering with him, riled up, slightly embarrassed as he put a tiara on her head, dancing with him, riding in cars beside him, hard at work as he lay on her couch watching, waking him up on his couch and telling him they needed to go somewhere, falling asleep beside him on stakeout.

Of course, when he was in the grip of self-loathing, he tended to remember other things: the hurt in her eyes whenever they argued about Lorelei, the desperation in her voice when she told him he was throwing his life away, the way she'd felt in his arms on the beach at sunset when he'd held her for what he feared would be the very last time. The way her tremulous smile must have turned to disbelief and anger when he left her there. The way she'd just kept helping him afterward, like what he'd done was nothing remarkable. As if she expected and accepted that he would hurt her. He hated himself on her behalf, because she didn't seem capable of it. And she should hate him; she had so many reasons to.

But he was so very glad she didn't. Where had she found the strength to bring him in from the cold, feed him, kiss him, take him grocery shopping like they were an old married couple, and then fuss around his room making sure he had everything he needed? She'd even made him another cup of chamomile in his old teacup to help him sleep.

She would be unhappy if she knew how little sleep he was actually getting. She'd spent so much of her life worrying about him that he hated the thought of her doing it tomorrow too. Maybe he could try to sleep. Maybe knowing she was just a few yards away, that she was safe and well and still—still!—cared about him was enough to soothe his tortured subconscious.

Yawning, he rolled over on his side. There was just enough moonlight filtering in through the window to glint off his teacup. He couldn't believe she'd kept it, but then, he'd left her so little to remember him by. He should have bought her something beautiful while there was still time. Or at least written her a letter to tell her how much she was loved, how his last wish would be that she could find happiness.

There was no doubt in his mind: he was a selfish bastard.

And she had loved—still loved?—him anyway.

mmm

He didn't realize the alley he was running down dead ended until it was too late. And when the first blow landed, he realized that the phrase "dead end" was horribly apt. He was going to end up dead here. Nobody who knew would care; nobody who cared would know. Assuming anybody still did. He hoped Lisbon wasn't waiting for him to return, wouldn't waste the rest of her life hoping. He wished he could see her just for one second more, hear just one word in her beautiful soft voice. He wished he could tell her how sorry he was and not to grieve for him.

He wished they would kill him more quickly, because goddamn, it hurt. He couldn't help crying out as the blows landed. And because he didn't believe in God, he cried out to the one being in the universe who might show him mercy. He was glad Lisbon would never know he had died sobbing her name to comfort himself.

"Jane. Jane, it's all right. You're safe. I'm here."

He started to weep in gratitude that his mind had conjured her up to ease him out of his pitiful existence.

"Jane. Wake up." He could feel her small, strong hand squeezing his, her slim fingers trailing across his damp cheek. Reaching out, he found a shoulder and pulled her down against him. She was warm and solid and he had to believe in miracles now, because she was here.

"How did you find me?" he panted against her neck.

"Jane," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "you're in my house. Remember? You found me."

Something wet pushed against his upper arm, and as he came fully awake he realized it was Bear's nose, curious to know what was going on and why he wasn't included. He was lucky the dog hadn't attacked him when he'd grabbed Lisbon. After a moment, he removed one hand to reach down and pet Bear in apology. Lisbon sat up, but he kept a light grip on her elbow, not willing to let her go yet.

"Are you okay now?" It was the voice he remembered from waking up in hospitals, achingly soft and warm.

"Yeah. I think so." He cleared his throat to steady his voice. "I'm sorry I woke you."

She petted his hair, and he nearly started crying again at how good the loving gesture felt. "Is that why you hesitated about staying here? Because you have night terrors?"

"I thought maybe I'd be okay here," he tried to explain. "Close to you...I thought I'd know I was safe."

She sucked in a breath, and he reached out to turn the bedside lamp on, needing to see her. She looked on the verge of tears. "You were calling for me. But you sounded so...hopeless. Like you didn't think I'd come."

Because you didn't know where I was, he thought. Aloud, he said, "It was just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Okay. But you are safe now," she assured him.

For one delirious moment he thought about asking her to stay the rest of the night with him. He thought she might be thinking about it too. But a moment later she looked down at Bear and said, "Bear, come on up, boy."

Bear trotted around to the other side of the bed and jumped up, taking the few steps to Jane and lying down. Lisbon petted him, then looked back at Jane. "I'm going to leave him here with you. He'll guard you. You're safe with him. Okay?"

"Okay." It was the best offer he was going to get, he realized. "I'm sorry to take him away from you."

She shrugged, grinning suddenly. "It's okay. He snores." She got up from the bed and said, "Bear, snuggle."

The dog wriggled over to lean against Jane and lay his head on his chest, nose almost bumping Jane's chin. Lisbon smiled, seeming amused at the picture they made. "I wasn't sure that would work with anybody else."

Jane wrapped one arm around Bear, who thumped his tail on the bed twice in pleasure. "Are you kidding? I think this dog would attack a real bear to defend you."

"That's how he got his name," Lisbon replied.

Jane's heart nearly stopped at the thought of Lisbon being menaced by a bear. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might have returned to find only a tombstone to tell his regrets to.

"Relax. It was a long time ago, right after I moved here. He was a puppy still, and I didn't know anything about wildlife. I do now."

"I want to hear all about it," he said earnestly.

"Tomorrow. Right now we are going back to sleep. I have to work in the morning."

He vaguely remembered telling her they didn't have to leave right away, because he'd told Agent Abbott he might need some time to convince her. But he felt something close to panic at the idea of being separated from her again. "Can I come with you?"

Her lips were already forming the "no" when she stopped herself. "If you get enough sleep," she said instead. "Do you need anything before I turn out the light?"

It was so wonderful to feel cared for again that he didn't mind being talked to like a child. "No. Thank you."

"Go back to sleep. And only sweet dreams this time," she chided, as if he could control that. Then she made his heart skitter a little by bending down to kiss his forehead. She gave Bear one last pet, then turned off the lamp. She didn't close the door all the way when she left; he wasn't sure whether that was so Bear could roam at will or so she could hear him if he had more bad dreams.

He was safe. He might not be very wise. But he was loved.

He fell back to sleep almost instantly.

mmm

The next morning, Jane woke up to find light streaming into the room. Bear was still pressed to his side and began thumping his tail as Jane opened his eyes.

"Good morning," Jane said, rubbing the dog's ears. Bear began licking Jane's chin, which made him chuckle in surprise. Then he paused, startled at the sound he'd made. How long had it been since he'd made a spontaneous happy sound? He honestly couldn't remember.

"Good dog," Jane whispered, bending down to hug Bear. "You want to go outside? Yeah? Well, let's take care of that. Then I'll fix breakfast."

That was apparently a word Bear knew, because he began wagging his tail so hard the entire bed shook. He jumped down as Jane threw the covers back, and they made their way downstairs. Jane let Bear out into the fenced back yard and began perusing Lisbon's kitchen. He planned to make her the best omelette she'd ever had.

He'd just begun chopping sweet peppers when Bear returned, so he took a break to let the dog in and put food and fresh water down for him.

The coffeemaker began burbling away as he finished, so he hurried to get the omelette cooking before Lisbon came downstairs. He succeeded, but just barely.

Bear jumped up and greeted her like they'd been parted for weeks, and Lisbon gave a sleepy smile as she petted him. "Good boy," she crooned to him. "You're such a good dog."

"He really is," Jane said. "Thanks for loaning him to me last night."

She straightened up and looked at him. "You got some sleep?"

"Yes. Best sleep I've had in years." He turned back to the stove. She was so adorable in her rumpled sleepwear with her hair all messy that he was afraid he might yield to temptation and try to kiss her. He was pretty sure Lisbon wasn't a fan of early morning passes. "Can we take Bear with us?"

"To work? I usually do."

"No, I meant to Sacramento." He rummaged in the cupboards and found a plate for her omelette.

"I don't like the idea of leaving him in a hotel room all day," Lisbon replied, pouring a cup of coffee.

"No need. I have an apartment. With a guest room."

"You do? How long have you been back?" She didn't quite keep the hurt out of her voice.

"Two days. Three, counting today, I guess. The FBI got me a place before I even hit U.S. soil. To make it clear they expect me to stay." He set her plate on the table, instantly committing to memory the way she smiled up at him.

"Are you inviting me to stay with you, or just my dog?" she asked.

"I assumed you were a package deal," he replied, starting on his own scrambled eggs.

"Maybe you should get a dog of your own. I hear they're good for people who've been...who've had a hard time." She put a bite of omelette in her mouth and hummed in approval.

"I don't think I could do better than Bear." Jane grinned as the dog trotted over at the sound of his name.

Besides, he intended to stay near Lisbon for as long as he could manage. Just the sight of her made him feel stronger, more himself. She made him feel like he could build a life worth having again. If she wouldn't stay in Sacramento, he'd be up here every free day he had, soaking up the strength and happiness her presence gave him and trying to convince her to take him on permanently as soon as he got free of the FBI.

"No, my Bear is one of a kind," Lisbon agreed, and the dog went back over to her side to receive a chin scratch.

They ate their breakfast mostly in silence. Lisbon wasn't one for morning chatter, and Jane was content to observe her, pleased she was enjoying his offering. Afterward, they cleaned up together, and Lisbon poured herself a second cup of coffee as Jane put the kettle on for his tea.

"Thanks for breakfast," Lisbon said. "The guest bathroom is all set for you."

"Thanks for letting me stay," Jane told her sincerely.

She paused in the doorway and looked at him for what felt like a long time. "You aren't okay, are you?" she said softly.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her deep green gaze. "No." He swallowed. "But when I'm with you, I think I could be."

To his delight, she blushed. "Good."

Sheer instinct propelled him across the room to take her in his arms. She hesitated for a moment, then hugged him back, her strong arms squeezing his ribs. He'd never hugged her when she wasn't wearing a bra, and the sensation stirred almost-forgotten desire. But he held himself in check. As much as he longed to, he couldn't lose himself in her. He needed to put himself back together first so he could be sure he wouldn't hurt her again. He would never, ever let himself do that if he could possibly help it.

She pulled away long before he was ready. "We need to leave in half an hour," she said, hurrying out of the room.

mmm

Lisbon unlocked the police station and let Bear go in first. He sniffed around and appeared unconcerned, so Lisbon went in, Jane trailing her. He wondered what the story was behind that habit. He hoped it wasn't the one involving a bear.

"My deputy will be here in a few minutes," she said, leading the way into her office. Bear went to his bed on the back corner, turned three times, and settled down. "You can take the chair in the corner. Sorry there's no couch. You got something to read?"

"I'm afraid not. Give me your open cases. I'll take a look." He may have lost his touch, but maybe he'd spot something.

"Okay." She obviously figured she had nothing to lose.

They'd just settled in when Deputy Dave Reynolds arrived. Jane decided to like the young man after spotting the wedding band on his finger and observing the way he treated Lisbon like an older sister. In fact, he reminded Jane a little of Rigsby, just shorter and with lighter hair.

Deputy Dave asked politely about Lisbon's family, then filled her in on the happenings of the week. It mostly seemed to be drunk and disorderly calls, some petty theft, and traffic stops. What a waste of Lisbon's talents, Jane thought. Surely she'd be happier with the FBI. He hoped Abbott would start them out on something intriguing.

After Deputy Dave wandered out to the front desk, the rest of the morning passed quietly. Jane read and pondered his handful of case files, having angled his chair so he could watch Lisbon out of the corner of his eye. They were both surprised when a knock on the open door interrupted them.

Lisbon suddenly looked nervous. "Father Dowd," she said. "What brings you by?"

"I went by your house first, since I know this is a difficult day for you. I'm happy to see you at work," the priest said, coming in. Jane took in his unexpectedly youthful appearance and the way he was smiling at Lisbon and decided it was a very good thing priests had to remain celibate.

"Father, I'd like you to meet Patrick Jane," Lisbon said hurriedly, gesturing toward Jane's chair.

Jane noted with interest that the priest looked like he'd seen a ghost. Apparently he'd featured in Lisbon's confessions now and then. Father Dowd recovered quickly, though. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Patrick. I'm so pleased you were able to come visit Teresa."

"So am I," Jane said politely, standing. He was well aware that alienating the priest wouldn't help him in his campaign to take Lisbon away from all this. "I'm glad to find her in such a lovely place with so many friendly people."

"She is a very welcome addition to our town," Father Dowd said.

Jane reminded himself that even if Father Dowd took his vow of celibacy lightly, Lisbon wouldn't. Though it was possible his interest was professional, since she was one of his flock. Stopping by to offer consolation on a difficult day was part of his job.

Wait. What about this day was difficult for Lisbon? He knew the dates of her parents' deaths, Bosco's death, and all the other anniversaries that made her sad or unsettled. This must be a new one. It wasn't the day she'd left the CBI, because Cho had told him she'd stayed on for a while after he left, and it was just short of two years since he'd killed Red John. Wait, what day was it? Today was—

Oh no. Today was the anniversary of the last time they'd seen each other. His heart hurt as he realized that he'd added to her list of unhappy anniversaries. And this day was so difficult for her that her priest felt compelled to check on her.

He was a miserable excuse for a human being.

Father Dowd had turned to Teresa and was attempting to coax her into some church dinner tonight. "We're all anxious to hear about your trip. And I know everyone would love to meet your friend." He grinned at her. "It's spaghetti and meatballs tonight."

Lisbon was obviously torn. Jane didn't want her foregoing any treats for his sake, so he said, "Well, Teresa promised to cook for me tonight, but that sounds like fun. I'd love to meet the rest of your flock, Father."

Lisbon shot him a slightly panicked look, and he smiled reassuringly at her. He had no intention of doing anything but charming the socks off her fellow congregants. He bet most of them would be older ladies with a soft spot for romance. If he played his cards right, he could enlist them as allies. It wouldn't hurt his cause to have people she liked telling her what a nice man he was and that she shouldn't let him get away.

"We'll see you both tonight, then," Father Dowd said, beaming at them before taking his leave.

"It's nearly noon," Jane remarked before Lisbon could say anything. "Is there somewhere I can buy you lunch?"

"Jane, I live in this town. Please tell me you aren't going to cause some kind of scene."

"Relax, Lisbon. It's just lunch." He picked up her jacket and held it out for her. With a sigh, she slid her arms into it and adjusted it on her shoulders. He helpfully pulled her hair from under the collar and fluffed it so it fell gracefully down her back. Then he took a moment to reassure himself he wasn't dreaming, because he'd relived a similar moment in her old office so many times now.

This close, her scent was tantalizing. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he knew she would be annoyed by any display of affection in her workplace.

She turned to look at him, not stepping back. She was close enough to kiss.

"Do you promise to behave?" she demanded.

"Yes." He meant it, and he hoped she could read that.

They stood there looking at each other for a few moments, until Jane knew he had to either kiss her or shatter the tension some other way. So he tried to summon up a grin. "It's the new me, Lisbon. Complete with social graces. I will be a perfect gentleman at lunch, and I swear none of the people at the church dinner will realize I'm an atheist. I'm on a journey of repentance, after all."

"Repentance?" she echoed. She still didn't step back, and his pulse picked up as he wondered if she actually wanted him to kiss her. "For which sins?"

"You know better than I," he said softly. "They were all against you."

Pain crossed her face, and she reached up a hand to hover over his chest as she opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. She let out a sigh and moved her hand to his shoulder. "I usually go home for lunch and leave Bear there while I patrol. Let's do that. It's my turn to cook. Afterward you can take a nap."

"I can't come with you?"

She shook her head. "I don't take civilians on patrol. You and Bear can keep each other company."

He gave in, deciding it was in his best interest to be agreeable. A nap would probably do him good if he was going to spend the evening charming people. He was out of practice, after all.

mmm

The church hall was crowded, Jane was surprised to note. He put his memory palace to work storing names and tidbits of information about the seemingly endless parade of people Lisbon introduced him to.

"Great turnout," he murmured to her when they had a second to themselves.

He was delighted to see her dimples as she smiled. "You're big news in a small town. There are people here I've never seen in this church before. If you feel like doing a magic trick or two, you'll have a willing audience."

"You mean I have to work for my supper? Can't I just wash dishes?"

She frowned. "Since when do you turn down a chance to show off?"

He hoped his smile was convincing. "It's the new me, Lisbon. Low key."

She looked worried rather than reassured. "Nobody will make you do anything you don't want to," she said.

They found seats together near the middle of one long table. Jane made as little conversation as the young lady on his other side would permit, though she was definitely curious about where he'd come from and how long he was staying. And she wanted very much to tell him all about her high school and the college she planned to go to in the fall. He encouraged her to do that, paying just enough attention to keep her happy while devoting the rest of his mind to Lisbon's stories about her family trip.

The food was nothing special, but it was nice to have a home-cooked meal, he thought. He could have eaten rice cakes and been happy as long as he could sit next to Lisbon. That was what he really needed, he thought. Just being close to her was making something in him heal. Maybe what he was suffering from wasn't the post-traumatic stress disorder the FBI's shrink had diagnosed but just an absence of Lisbon, like a vitamin deficiency. If they would just let him stay here, he'd be right as rain in no time. But unfortunately they were forcing him to return to California or be put in prison, so his only real option was to persuade Lisbon to go with him.

He wished they could have stayed here, though. This place had been good for her, he thought, and it would probably be good for him too.

After everyone finished eating, they formed conversational groups, no one in any hurry to leave. Jane tried to stay near Lisbon, but eventually they were separated. When he managed to escape the curious crowd that had gathered around him, he couldn't see her anywhere.

"She's probably in the kitchen," one of the older ladies told him with a smile. "She usually helps with the clean-up."

"Thank you." He made his way to the tiny kitchen, but none of the women there were the one he was looking for. He opened a door and found himself in a hallway that obviously led to the administrative areas of the church. A few doors down, he heard voices and stopped to listen.

"But what should I do?" It was Lisbon's voice, heartbreaking in its vulnerability.

Jane stepped closer to the door just in time to hear Father Dowd say, "Only you can decide that, Teresa. But ask yourself this: could you find peace if you sent him away tomorrow?"

"No." Her voice was so low he barely heard it. It took a while for her to speak again, and when she did it was clear she was a little choked up. "But I don't know if I can do this again, Father. I can tell he needs help, but I don't want to get hurt again. I don't know if I can bear it."

"God never gives us more than we can bear, Teresa. Sometimes, taking on something we don't think we can do is an act of faith." Father Dowd paused, then said, "From what I've seen, I don't think God brought Patrick back into your life to cause you more pain. Maybe this is His way of redeeming some of the pain in your past, a chance to answer the questions you still have. I would advise you to take the opportunity to find those answers, even if they are not the ones you hope for. Knowing is better than wondering, isn't it?"

Lisbon sighed. "I don't know. Maybe it was easier to just tell myself what I wanted to hear."

"But you have often said that it was hard for you not to know where he was or whether he was well. At least you have that assurance now."

"Yes. I don't—I don't regret seeing him again. I'm grateful for that. And as many times as I prayed he would find happiness, I have to confess, part of me is glad that he missed me. But I'm afraid that once we're working together again, he'll remember all the things about me that he didn't like. I know I tried to remember just the things I loved about him and forget about the rest. I'm sure he did the same. What if I tear up this life I worked so hard to make and then find out that I'm not what he needs after all? I was never enough for him before."

Jane's hands clenched into fists as he resisted the urge to push the door open and try to explain to her that the problem had never been her. It had always been him.

Father Dowd said gently, "From what you've said, this is a man who has lost his way, not just once, but twice now. There are no certainties with a man like that. But if he truly is in search of repentance, you are required by Christ's example to grant him a chance. I don't mean that you have to give your heart to him again, but you should give him whatever help you feel able to. You may find a surprising amount of healing in that."

Was that a sniff? Jane felt on the verge of tears himself listening to her pour her heart out and knowing that he was the cause of all her pain.

"You should pray on your decision, Teresa. Selfishly, I hope your path lies here with us. You are a valued part of our congregation."

"Thank you, Father. And thank you for listening."

Jane pulled himself away from the door and fled down the hall, looking for someplace quiet to hide and think. He found a little cloakroom niche with a bench along one side and collapsed on it, putting his face in his hands. He had known, intellectually, that he had broken her heart, but hearing her give voice to that pain was shattering. It didn't matter that he had broken his own in the process; he should never have done that to her. And yet he hadn't seen a way around it. He couldn't give up his promise to kill Red John without feeling like he was turing his back on his family.

He had always been honest with her about his intentions, and he'd tried sporadically over the years to discourage her from caring about him. But at the same time, he'd selfishly won her over every time it looked like she might wash her hands of him, because he needed her, both to complete his revenge and to keep him sane while he did it. He had used her. He fully admitted it. But it hadn't been because he hadn't cared about her.

He had a lot to make up for. He hoped she would give him the chance. He at least owed her the truth about why he had done some of the hurtful things she was probably still stewing over, no matter her attempts to practice patience and resignation.

He heard her walk down the hallway and held himself still until she opened the door to go back into the big room where they'd eaten. She would come looking for him in a few minutes, so he needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath, trying to make himself calm.

When he opened them, he jumped at the face looking down at him. "Sorry to startle you," Father Dowd said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No. Thank you. I'm, uh, not used to crowds anymore." That was true enough, at least.

"You've had a rough time, I gather." Father Dowd's voice was sympathetic without being pitying. Jane could see why Lisbon found him easy to talk to.

"Yeah." Still, he wasn't going to pour his heart out to a stranger. "But I'll be okay now. I think I've found my way."

The priest smiled. "It's a blessing to find one's salvation. I will pray for you, Patrick, that you truly have found your way."

Jane swallowed down a comment about wasting his breath and said, "Thank you."

"If you don't want to go back into the fellowship hall, can I get Teresa for you?"

"No. I'll go back in. I don't want— I'm fine to go back in. But thank you." Jane got to his feet. He didn't want to be treated as fragile, but he wasn't going to do anything to give someone with so much influence over Lisbon a bad opinion of him.

"You're welcome. I have very much enjoyed meeting you. If you're still here on Sunday, I hope you'll accompany Teresa to mass."

Jane was prepared to go to any lengths to get Lisbon back in his life, so he said, "We'll see. I'm not sure exactly when we're leaving."

"Yes, Teresa told me she was going to help you get settled in back in Sacramento. She's a good friend," Father Dowd said as they began walking toward the hall door.

"Yes. The best. So, how long—"

Jane was interrupted as the door was flung open and Lisbon hurried through, her worried look morphing to relief as she saw Jane.

"I have found your lost sheep, Teresa," Father Dowd joked, continuing on his way into the hall.

"Maybe that's my problem. I need to buy a shepherd's crook," Lisbon muttered.

Jane laughed at the image in his head. "You know you'd just end up beating me over the head with it."

She smiled for just a second, then looked at him worriedly again. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Lisbon. Just having a nice chat with the lovely Father Dowd. He's either a very kind man or a very good actor."

"He's very kind, yes. Why a good actor?" she asked.

"With everything you must have told him about me, he must want to punch me on your behalf."

"Probably," she agreed, surprising him. He'd expected her to deny talking about him, perhaps adding a jab about his ego and how little she'd thought of him these past two years. Had she actually taken him seriously when he promised to stop making her think she had to hide her feelings? "Although I've always been clear that the choices I made were my own. They weren't smart, sometimes. But you never forced me to do anything, Jane. You don't get to own my choices."

"No," he mused. "We all make our own choices. And mine have been bad enough without looking for more."

"I guess we just both have to choose to do better," she said.

He wanted to hold her and tell her how sorry he was for each and every one of his choices that had done her harm, that none of them had been because he didn't love her. But he wasn't sure she was ready to hear it, and he was very sure she didn't want to hear it here. "Do you need help cleaning up?" he offered.

"Sure." She looked surprised, but she turned to lead the way back in.

mmm

He tried to recover his charm for the rest of the evening, putting on an apron and insisting on making Lisbon dry rather than wash the dishes to preserve her pretty hands. She rolled her eyes at him, but he got smiles from the two older ladies who were wrapping up leftovers.

Later, in the passenger seat as they drove through the darkness, he was struck with a sense of homesickness so powerful it made him want to cry. This had once been his life, riding around with Lisbon catching bad guys and trading witticisms. He wanted it again. He needed it again.

"It wasn't because I didn't love you." It was a toss up as to who was more shocked when the words escaped him.

"Wha—" Lisbon gave a little gasp of surprise, then recovered. "What wasn't?"

"Any of it. I did love you. I do love you. It's just—it's a broken kind of love, because I'm a broken man. And you deserve better. But I don't have anything better to give you."

"How about you let me decide what I deserve?" she said after a long pause.

"But that means I have to decide what I deserve, and I know that there's no way in hell I deserve you," he pointed out.

Lisbon frowned through the windshield, then stopped the car and put it in park. Fortunately, there wasn't any traffic this time of night, since there wasn't a shoulder to pull over on. "And who told you we get what we deserve in this life? God, Jane. Did my mother deserve to get killed by a drunk? Did your wife deserve to be killed because you went on TV?"

She was hitting hard; he must have touched a nerve without meaning to. Being clumsy around Lisbon was a life-threatening condition—he'd never regretted his lost mojo more than at that moment. "No, of course not," he muttered.

"Some people get much worse than they deserve," she continued. "Some get much, much better. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to make sense of it. People don't get what they deserve. Period. Get over it."

He searched for something to say in response to that. Nothing came to mind other than, "Okay."

"Okay?" she repeated incredulously.

"You made an excellent point," he said. "I concede the argument."

"You concede— Who are you and what have you done with Patrick Jane?"

He couldn't help grinning. "No, it's me. But I'm sick and tired of arguing that I can't have you. Your argument appeals to me. Consider me your declared suitor."

He'd forgotten how much he loved that stunned look she got when she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Suitor?"

"Yes. I'm sorry now I didn't bring you flowers. Would you like some? Maybe some candy? I'll cook you a fancy dinner." Oh, her expression was priceless. He was definitely committing it to memory. "I can't promise you an easy life, but I do promise to make you as happy as possible. If you'll give me the chance."

"I said I'd go with you," she managed to say after a minute.

"Yes. And I'm satisfied with that for now. But eventually I'm going to ask you to stay with me."

He was going way too fast; he could see it in her slightly panicked eyes. He smiled sympathetically at her, to tell her that yes, he realized he was being completely insane.

He'd repent later.

**A/N:** I'm not Catholic, so please forgive any of this that doesn't ring true (and feel free to drop me a note and educate me!). Also, I'm thinking this might be a trilogy. I've gotten way too attached to Bear. :)


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